Behind Enemy Lines
by eyeheartnaps
Summary: Fred/OC. Fred bumps into a mysterious girl during a trip to Diagon Alley, and it's love at first sight. But who is she? And what, if anything, is she hiding? -Read and Respond so that I know to update!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Close Encounters**

He remembered the first day he saw her like it was yesterday. A crispness hung in the cool breeze, which smelled faintly of freshly cut grass and pipe tobacco, as he made his way through the bustling streets, navigating his way in and out of the various shops that held the school supplies his family could barely afford with their meager income. His younger siblings whined indistinctly behind him, their measly attempts at persuading their parents to splurge a little on this or that fading as he and his brother swam through the crowd towards their destination. And just when it seemed like they would never reach it before their mother realized they were missing, it was there. Spread out in front of them like Christmas dinner was their glorious future: a vacant two-story building, complete with tattered storefront draperies and a white sign emblazoned with the two most glorious words they had ever seen-FOR SALE.

"What are you two gits starin' at?" Ron Weasley asked his older brothers.

He didn't really care either way what they were looking at, but it was either feign interest in whatever scheme they were currently plotting, or tag along with his mom and sister while Ginny sought out new dress robes on the off chance there'd be another school dance this term at Hogwarts. The mere thought of dress robes and school dances made Ron shudder, as he remembered with utter disgust how well the last dance had gone for him. Thankfully he had grown into the dress robes his brother Percy had worn when he was a sixth year, and therefore didn't have to suffer through the torment of having his mother fawn over how old he was getting, and how tall he was getting, and how handsome he was becoming before bursting into tears of joy that her youngest son was growing into a fine young man, as she was known to do as she reminisced about how fast the years were passing. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

"The future, little brother," Fred said , clapping Ron roughly on the back, dodging a playful shove in return as he nodded his head toward the old building, which to the naked eye seemed to have been condemned due to some sort of health code violation.

"What, you mean that old thing?" Ron scoffed, pointing at the dilapidated building. "The only future that rundown shack's got is the day it comes crashing down on the poor idiot who buys the place!" He paused looking from Fred, to George, and back again. "You didn't do what I think you did, did you?"

George grinned. "Not yet," he replied, draping an arm over Ron's shoulders.

"But soon," Fred finished, doing the same.

Ron shrugged them off. "Have you gone mental?" he asked. "What could you possibly see in that old dump, I mean besides your grave if mum ever found out that you even considered buying the place?"

Fred and George exchanged a look that only the two of them in their twinliness would ever understand before stating the obvious: "Opportunity." And there, just beyond George's left ear, Fred saw her, scurrying after a loose piece of paper across the street.

Her long golden-brown curls swirled around her face in the breeze as she chased the small slip of paper down the street, bumping into patrons as she passed, muttering apologies as she passed, determined to catch whatever it was. Fred grinned a little. Her movement through the crowd was awkward, yet strangely graceful, almost as if rehearsed like a dance. Forgetting his brothers, Fred pushed his way towards the sidewalk on the other side of the street, reaching the abandoned storefront he and George had been admiring just in time to snatch the piece of parchment out of the air, and collide with its owner, causing her to drop the bags she had been carrying. She let out a sigh of defeat and scrambled to gather her things. Fred, bending down to help her, handed her the items he had gathered, uncontrollably brushing a strand of hair out of her steel gray eyes, marveling at how silky it was and, shaking himself out of his day dream, held out the parchment.

"I think you dropped this," he said smoothly, his fingertips softly brushing hers as he handed over what appeared to be a shopping list.

She smiled softly. "Thanks," she said. Her voice was gentle, like music to Fred's ears. She held his gaze for a moment, as if trying to discern what he was thinking, and the next minute she was gone, lost among the sea of shoppers.

"Oy!" George called once he had spotted Fred, too late to have seen what his twin had hurried over to see. He and Ron made their way over to him, Ron still sputtering on about something that Fred was too distracted to overhear. There were a thousand questions running through his mind. Who was she? Where did she come from? Where was she going? Would he ever see her again? The sound of Ron's voice brought him back to reality once he and George were at his side.

"All I'm saying," Ron continued, a little too loudly as the crowd around them had dispersed a bit. He looked into the dusty store window, struggling to hold back a sneeze "is that maybe you want to hold off a bit before..."

"Since when are you the voice of reason?" George asked, wiping the grime off of another pane of glass and peering inside. "Hermione rubbed off on you, has she?"

"No," Ron protested, his brow furrowing as he hurried to change the subject. "I mean look at the place! What could you possibly want with a place like this?"

"Like we said before," Fred said as a twinkle in the sidewalk caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a thin silver chain sporting a small charm in the shape of a sparrow, its wings outstretched as if it were soaring through the air "Opportunity." He smiled to himself, gingerly placing the necklace in his pocket and walked back through the crowd towards the dress robes shop, leaving his brothers perplexed behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

"There you are!" her mother called from the back of the store as she entered, her cheeks flushed a light pink from the breeze and from half running to meet up with them in the bookstore. It was almost as busy as the street that held it, students having to push past each other, reaching over and around for the books they needed. It was like nothing she had ever seen. Then again, having been home schooled since turned 11, she hadn't gotten out much. "Where have you been? What's kept you?"

Come to think of it, she had always thought it was strange that she hadn't ever been asked to attend Hogwarts, or any other magic school for that matter. There had never been any doubt, being born into the family she'd been born into, that she would be an excellent witch. And now all of a sudden, upon turning 17, she had received her letter? Her brother had received his when he had turned 11. Why did he get to go to school at such a young age while she'd been forced to study from his tattered used books in the windowless kitchen where no one could see? For a fleeting moment, she wondered if perhaps she had been receiving letters each year that her parents had been keeping from her...

"Well?" her mother demanded.

"What?" she asked, lightly shaking her head.

"Where've you been?" her mother asked shortly. "Your brother and I have been waiting for over an hour."

"I.." she began, suddenly remembering the boy from the street. She thought it best to keep their interaction to herself...for now. "I must have lost track of the time," she lied. She knew all too well that her brother had given her more than her share of the shopping list to complete when he had ripped it in two. If he wasn't family, she would have nothing to do with him. He was absolutely vile. Of course she could never tell her parents that. She seemed to disappoint them enough already.

"Pathetic," her brother sneered. "Can't even get the shopping done right. No wonder she hasn't been asked to Hogwarts before now." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"If you weren't too good to do your own chores, perhaps I'd get to places on time," she muttered.

"My own chores?" he scoffed "You wouldn't need to do chores if you'd gotten into Hogwarts on time, would you? You'd be licensed to do magic whenever you wanted by now, wouldn't you?"

"I..."

"But you couldn't even get that right," he continued, ignoring her interruption. "It wasn't enough to be an embarrassment to yourself, you had to go off and become an embarrassment to the family by becoming the oldest person to ever graduate from Hogwarts." His voice, which had slowly been getting louder throughout his rant, was starting to draw the attention of others.

" Now, now, Draco," Lucius Malfoy said smugly, as he had found his family outside the store "we don't want to cause a scene." Even as her father spoke, she didn't believe him. Disdain for her dripped from his voice, and she had a fleeting sense that he would be glad to be rid of her this fall. "Come along now."

* * *

"Fred..." Ginny Wesley said, gently placing a hand on her brother's shoulder. No response. "Fred?"

"Fredrick Weasley!" their mother yelled, causing Fred to snap out of his daze and drop the chain he had been mindlessly fiddling with in his pocket.

"I'm right behind you, mum. No need to shout," he replied, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

"Right," she said. "Does everyone have everything? Ron? Ginny?"

"Yes," they replied in unison, rolling their eyes. But only Ginny noticed that Fred's mind had once again drifted to some far off place.

"All right then," Mrs. Weasley said, quickly dabbing her eyes with a kerchief "off you go!" And she ushered her children onto the train, waving them off until all that could bee seen was a cloud of smoke.

Ginny followed hurriedly behind her brothers, making a mental note as to the compartment where Ron, Harry and Hermione had settled, and almost slammed into the back of George when he stopped suddenly and turned into what appeared to be one of the last empty compartments on the train. She hurried in after him just as he shut the door.

"Oy!" George said with a furrowed brow. "What are you doing here? This compartment's occupied."

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "It's only you and Fred," she said. The compartment was far from being full.

George grinned. "Well, not for long," he winked over her shoulder at two girls as they passed. They smiled coyly and he nodded at them. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"George's right," Fred said, placing their bags in the overhead compartment after retrieving a box from inside. He opened it and began organizing its contents, and Ginny peered around George who seemed to be standing in front of her now to intentionally block her view.

"What are you up to?" she asked, narrowing her eyes at Fred who seemed to be doing the task more out of habit than out of a real interest. He was still distracted and, even if it took her all night, she was going to find out why.

Fred glanced up at her then, feeling her eyes boring into him. 'If only she knew how much she was like mum,' he thought as he walked to the door, tapping George out and dealing with his nosey sister himself. "Nothing that concerns you," he said, ushering her out the door. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have business to attend to."

"Fred, wait," she said, her eyes concerned. But before she could ask him what was going on, he shut the door, pulling the shade on the window behind him with a sigh of relief. He was going to have to keep a better check on his emotions from now on.

"What was all that about?" Ron said when he found Ginny, munching on a chocolate frog.

"I don't know," Ginny replied. "But I'm going to find out."

* * *

They made their way down the dimly lit hall of the castle, stopping before a large gargoyle, which seemed out of place. Then again, this whole encounter was rather odd. They had moved swiftly down the hall, past the other students who were gathering for what appeared to be a feast. Draco had been allowed to join the others, but her parents had prevented her from doing so, insisting that they report to professor Dumbledore's office immediately upon arrival. But wouldn't he be at the feast with the others? And come to think of it, didn't Draco get to travel to the school on the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the students when he first came to Hogwarts? Why did she have to accompany her parents via broomstick? It was all very strange, but she didn't dare protest for fear that her parents would force her to leave. So she did what she was told, and followed her parents through the passageway.

"Good evening, Lucius," Dumbledore said, rising from behind a beautiful mahogany desk. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles and addressed his mother and father in turn, even Draco, who had been escorted from the feast by a witch sporting a severe bun atop her head. "Ah, Minerva," Dumbledore said, taking a hat off a high shelf "right on time." He turned to face her, his kind eyes smiling. "And you must be Mercedes. It is a pleasure to finally meet you."

Mercedes brushed a honey colored curl behind her ear, accepting his welcoming handshake. "It's an honor to be here, sir."

"Please," Dumbledore said "call me professor. And now, allow me to introduce you to some of my colleagues." He gestured to the others in the room whom Mercedes had failed to notice as she had gazed with curiosity at the various magical objects around the room. Once Dumbledore had introduced Professors McGonagall, Snape, Sprout, the heads of houses, and Madame Pomfrey, the nurse, he gestured for them to be seated in the chairs he had conjured out of thin air.

"Now," he said to his present company. "I have asked you all here for a special ceremony. As a condition of allowing Miss Malfoy to continue her magical studies at Hogwarts, her parents have requested that she be sorted into her house privately, to avoid attracting attention to her special situation."

'Great,' Mercedes thought to herself. Now even the teachers knew that she was an embarrassment to her family.

"Miss Malfoy, if you would kindly step forward," Dumbledore said, holding out his hand. He guided Mercedes up to his desk where Professor McGonagall was holding the sorting hat. She stepped toward Professor McGonagall nervously. But despite the severe lines of her face, McGonagall was smiling softly. Slowly, she placed the hat on the new student's head and stepped back, her eyes watching with the others as the hat came to life.

Mercedes grew pale as she heard a small gasp from someone in the room. She shot a glance at her family. They looked absolutely horrified. Draco's eyes were bulging out of his head. Her mother looked as if she was about to pass out, and her father was furious. She looked to Dumbledore, concerned that perhaps she had done something wrong. But Dumbledore's face was content.

"Well, I think I have kept you from the feast long enough," Dumbledore said, rising from his seat. "Thank you for your time, Professors Now if you will excuse us, the Malfoys and I have some arrangements to make." The crowd then dispersed, leaving the Malfoys in the presence of the headmaster and his right-hand man.

"It's settled then," Dumbledore's number one said. "Mercedes Malfoy, welcome to Gryfindor house."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Gryfindor?" Lucius shouted. "Gryfindor?"

Mercedes shook her head as it was flooded with questions. She glanced around the room at the various faces. Professor McGonagall seemed absolutely delighted, trying to contain her wanting to fawn over the eldest Malfoy child. Professor Dumbledore grinned kindly, winking at her through his half-moon spectacles. Draco sneered vilely at her, humor filling his narrowed eyes, as if to say _Now you've done it._

Her mother's face, still ghostly pale, trembled in the dim light of Professor Dumbledore's office...out of shame, disgust, or fear, was unclear. "No," she kept muttering under her breath. "It's not possible. No."

But perhaps the absolute worst was her father's gaze. His face was slowly turning scarlet, fuming with rage. His hands gripped the arms of his chair so tightly that Mercedes wondered if he would rip his seat in two. But the worst were his eyes, boring into her soul, filled with the worst hate she had ever seen. For as much as her parents seemed to loathe her, they had never looked at her like this; like she was dead to them.

Panic flooded through her under her father's gaze, bringing her questions to light. "What's going on?" she asked to no one in particular. "What does that mean?"

"It means," Professor McGonagall said, approaching to remove the hat from atop the young woman's head "you have been sorted into Gryfindor house. We shall have to relocate your things at once."

"I'll not allow it!" bellowed Lucius. Mercedes shot a fearful glance at her father, who was no longer paying her any attention. His hate had found a new target for the moment: head of Gryfindor house.

"With all do respect Headmaster," Narcissa began, placing a hand on her husband's shoulder in an effort to calm him as she approached Professor Dumbledore "there must be some mistake..."

"Madame, I'm afraid there's been no error," Professor Dumbledore replied calmly. "The tradition of the Sorting Hat has been passed down since the founding of the school. In all its time of practice, it has yet to make a single misplacement or mistake."

"But it's tradition," Narcissa continued "stretching back to the beginning of our family. Every member of the Malfoy family has been placed in Slytherin house. Every member of the Black family has..."

"Well," Professor McGonagall said, ushering Mercedes to her side. "There's a first time for everything. Come now child, we'll have to change those as well" referring to Mercedes' emerald and silver embellished school robes. She reached for her wand but before it has fully emerged from beneath her cloak, Lucius snatched his daughter by the arm, yanking her back towards him, his wand at the ready.

"I'll not allow it!" he spat. "_My _daughter, a _Gryfindor_? I'll not allow it. Not for a minute; not for one _second_." Mercedes flinched in pain at her father's grip on her arm. She could feel the anger radiate off of him, like hot air wafting from a hot stove through an arctic tomb. His eyes never wavering from the witch in front of him.

"_Mr. Malfoy_!" Professor McGonagall exclaimed. "Lower your wand at _once_!" "Lucius," Narcissa pleaded "Lucius please."

"No!" he exclaimed. "My bloodline can be traced back to Salazar Slytherin himself! I will _not_ stand here and be made a fool while you allow my _pathetic excuse_ for a daughter to _spit_ on his grave! Now, you _will_ place her in Slytherin with Draco or..."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," Professor McGonagall continued. "Once a student has been sorted into his or her respective house, there is no changing it. Forcing her hand and placing her in Slytherin against the Sorting Hat's order will do no good. Mercedes would not be granted entrance to the dormitory, forced or otherwise. Now, Mr. Malfoy, if you would be so kind as to lower your wand and allow Professor Snape and I to escort both Draco and Mercedes to their respective dormitories..."

"No!" Lucius bellowed. "No, I'll not allow it!"

"Lower your wand, Lucius," Snape said, pointing his own wand at Lucius from behind. His tone was monotone but dangerously serious.

Lucius seemed to sense the threat in Severus' voice, lowering his wand slowly. "Fine." He hissed, suddenly minding his temper as he straightened his robes. "If an exception will not be made, that will be the end of this." He grabbed his walking stick and yanked Mercedes towards the door. "Come along Mercedes, we're going home."

"Lucius..." Narcissa began.

"No," Mercedes said turning back. "No, I want to stay."

Lucius' head snapped around, his eyes narrowed at his disappointment of a daughter. "What?" he hissed.

Mercedes gulped, twisting her arm out of her father's grasp. " I want to stay" she repeated, her voice trembling. She felt the sting of the back of his hand across her cheek long before she heard it coming.

"How _dare_ you defy me!" Lucius hissed.

"_Lucius_!" Narcissa exclaimed. He shot her a glare as if to say she was next if she even though of defending her daughter.

"Enough!" Professor Dumbledore shouted, taking control of the room for the first time since the out start of the encounter. "Lucius, I'll ask you to mind your temper while you remain within the walls of this school. We wouldn't want to draw more attention to your special situation as it is, would we?" Lucius opened his mouth to speak but found he had nothing to rebut.

"Now, Mr. Malfoy, Mrs. Malfoy," Professor Dumbledore continued, gesturing for them to sit once more in the chairs before his desk. "While I unfortunately cannot honor your request to place Mercedes in Slytherin house, perhaps there is another option."

"Go on," Lucius said, feigning interest.

"Your daughter has been placed in the precarious position of having been home schooled for the majority of her magical years, rather than honoring Hogwarts with her talents upon receipt of her first acceptance letter when she turned eleven."

Mercedes' mouth hung open. _First acceptance letter?_ What was _that _supposed to mean? Since when had she been accepted to Hogwarts? Did that mean that her parents had elected to keep her from magical studies, just as she had always feared? But then why would the have let her study at home...

"As such," Professor Dumbledore continued "she has surpassed the education requirements of her first three years of study here at Hogwarts. Further, the scores she has received on her O.W.L.s more than qualify her to study at the 6th year level."

Her father opened his mouth to protest, but was silenced as Professor Dumbledore continued. "However, given the nature of her talents, Mercedes may well be on her way to harboring quite the healing ability, and as such would be a valuable asset to St. Mungos in the future. Therefore, I am prepared to offer, in exchange for her studies at Hogwarts, an apprenticeship of sorts with Madame Pomfrey, the school nurse, which places Mercedes in a position that would more than accommodate everyone's wishes."

Lucius opened his mouth to protest, but Narcissa stopped him. "Lucius, be reasonable," she said. "What would we do with her at home? We can't go on telling everyone she's a squib, she draws enough attention to herself as she is! If she's here, no one will pry. For all they know, she could be..."

"Alright!" Lucius agreed, suddenly fond of the idea that he would be rid of the embarrassment he had to claim as his daughter. "Alright, she can stay...Provided several conditions are met."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: **

"Oi! Fred!" George shouted across the table to his twin. The Great Hall was filled with the boisterous chatter of students reliving their summer adventures with the friends they hadn't seen in what seemed like a lifetime. The annual beginning of term feast was well underway and as such, the students hadn't noticed that most of the professors had disappeared for any length of time until they had returned.

"That's odd," Hermione said curiously, playing with the remainder of her pudding more so than eating it as she watched her professors return one by one to their places at the head table, unaware that their absences had been noticed.

"What is?" Ginny asked, turning to look at Hermione. She wondered if perhaps she wasn't the only one who had noticed Fred's aloofness.

"I wonder where the professors are returning from," she whispered, gesturing toward the head table. By now, Professor Dumbledore was returning to his seat.

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe Dumbledore had to meet with them or something."

Hermoine was skeptical. "During the feast?" she asked, her brow furrowed. Little did she know Ron had taken interest in the conversation, not so much because the subject interested him, but rather to make sure Hermione was distracted as his spoon moved in for the kill. Hermione didn't seem to notice. "What could be so important," she continued "What could be so important that Dumbledore would...RON!"

"What?" Ron asked, swallowing the rather large bite of pudding he had just taken out of Hermione's bowl. "I was hungry." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Wait a minute," Harry said, catching onto the strangeness that Hermione was suggesting. "When did Snape and Malfoy leave?" He had turned his head just in time to see Professor Snape escorting Draco Malfoy back to his seat at the Slytherin table. "I wonder what they're up to this time."

"Oh come off it Harry," Ron sighed. "It's the first night back!"

"Still," Harry said, shooting Draco a suspicious look from across the room. "It's strange."

"Speaking of strange," Ginny piped up. "Have any of you noticed Fred's been acting rather odd lately?"

Down at the other end of the table, George was still trying to get his twin's attention. "Oi! Fred!" he yelled more loudly.

Fred shook his head. He really needed to get these daydreams under control. "Oi! George!" he replied, a mischievous grin on his face.

George reached across the table and punched his brother in the arm.

"Ow!" Fred exclaimed. "What was that for?"

George shook his head. "Have you not been listening to a word I said?"

Fred looked at his brother with a shrug. He hadn't heard a word his brother had said since they'd taken inventory of the puking pasties and other various merchandise they had brought with them to peddle at school. He was too busy revisiting that fateful day in Diagon Alley, scanning the room now and again in the hopes that just maybe he would come across her face.

"Fred!" George exclaimed.

"What?" Fred replied, pulling his hand out of his pocket after making sure the delicate silver chain remained where he put it.

George shook his head. "Boy you've really got it bad, don't you?"

Fred gave his twin a puzzled look. "I have no idea what you are talking about."

"You were thinking about her again, weren't you?" George asked. He wasn't buying the act, not for one minute.

"Who?" Fred asked innocently.

"That girl," George replied. "The one from outside our building. The one from Diagon Alley."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Fred said with a grin. He knew exactly what George was talking about. And he knew that George knew that he knew. There was no hiding it from the one person who knew him better than he knew himself. But almost as soon as the grin had appeared, it was replaced with a grimace as George kicked him in the shin under the table.

"Ow!" Fred hissed. "What was that for?"

"You'd better quit it," George replied in a whisper, leaning over the table "before Ginny sees."

"Quit what?"

"Quit thinking about whatever it is you're thinking about in that pathetic excuse for a brain rattling around in your thick skull."

"Uh huh," Fred said, not really paying attention as he scanned the room for what seemed like the hundreth time that night.

"That too!" George hissed, kicking his other half in the shin again.

"Ow!" Fred exclaimed, rubbing his shin. "Okay! Okay!" he replied under his brother's glare. "I heard you. I'm working on it."

George chuckled, shaking his head. "She's not here, mate. Give it a rest."

Fred grinned at his brother, finishing what was left of his dessert. "She might not be here," he replied. "But I'm gonna find her."

"Sure," George replied. "Maybe. Someday."

"Someday," Fred agreed. "Now, tell me about those oozing pustules."

* * *

The rules were simple.

Mercedes was not to have anything to do with Gryfindor House. She was not to live in the dormitory, she was not to partake in any Gryfindor activities, and she most certainly was not to associate with any Gryfindors at any time, for any reason. Therefore, a makeshift room had been set up for her in the storeroom of the hospital wing. What was once a spare broom closet had been bewitched to expand until it was large enough to accommodate a spare bed from the infirmary, a makeshift desk, and a small trunk for her belongings. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

Her sole purpose for attending Hogwarts was to further her magical studies by catching up on elective classes, and to fulfill the terms of her apprenticeship. Therefore, she was to maintain the highest level of invisibility as humanly possible, sitting silently in the back corner of all her classes, participating in no group work within the classroom whatsoever. If that meant it took her double the time to complete her assignments, then so be it.

When she was not attending the few classes she was allowed to take, Mercedes was to report to Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing. She would assist Madame Pomfrey as much as needed while learning the tricks of the trade, as well as honing her own skills. In the words of her mother, perhaps Madame Pomfrey could set her straight and help teach her to control her abilities.

But perhaps the most important rule of all was this: No one, under any circumstances, was to know Mercedes was a Malfoy. She was to keep her last name a secret at all costs. If anyone were to find out her secret, she would be forced to withdraw from Hogwarts at once, and would be sent home immediately to deal with the highest of all consequences: the wrath of Lucius.

Every ounce of Malfoy was stripped from her until all that was left was non-distinct set of school robes, which, claiming no dormitory, remained standard issue black and white. Her relationship to Draco was not spoken of, which wasn't out of the ordinary because he didn't really claim her as his sister in public in the first place. There were no pictures of her family; no personal possessions of any kind that could possibly be traced back to Draco and his family. In fact, it was if she had no family at all—if asked she was to tell people she was from London; an orphan. It was the easiest explanation for her lack of familial memorabilia and lack of letters. She was to be left alone, a silent face in passing; easily forgettable; anything to make her stay more miserable.

And so, Mercedes Malfoy became Mercedes Yoflam.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The first night she dreamt. She dreamt of a meadow deep in the countryside, far away from the city. She dreamt she felt the warmth of a bright summer day as a cool breeze whipped her hair around her face. And as she dreamt she ran. She ran far and free through the meadow, brushing the tall grass and wildflowers, watching the butterflies fly past. And then, as she reached the trees the lined the other side of the meadow, the grass grew taller and the trees opened up into a vast lake, its clear waters crisp and cool as she dipped her toe in. She looked over her shoulder, laughing, seemingly without a care in the world. And then...

She woke up.

* * *

The first week kept him busy. Between the amount of work that came with the beginning of a new year at Hogwarts, and the secrecy that came with advertising their get-out-of-class-free potions, toffees, etc. Fred barely had time to think of the mysterious girl in front of their soon-to-be store. The second week was almost as busy as the first. They were selling out of their products almost as soon as they restocked. And with good reason. The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was making it harder and harder to have fun on the grounds, what with all the new rules she was implementing. But Fred was always up for a challenge...and he and George did enjoy breaking the rules. In the third week, things began to slow down. Business was coming to a standstill, and there was more time for them to catch up on the work they had fallen behind on...which they made sure to fill with Quidditch practice, and making plans as to how to keep potential buyers from stealing their building before they could think of a way to acquire the property without their parent's knowledge.

It wasn't until well into the fourth week that Fred even remembered to remember what he had forgotten. And by then it was almost too late. He had all but forgotten the light in her eyes, the sound of her voice, the softness of her skin. All he had left of her was the memory of her face, and the small sparrow necklace, that he had placed in the bottom of his trunk for safekeeping. He couldn't even remember what it was about her that had kept him up for hours at night, longing for another chance to see her...

And then he got detention.

Well, to be more precise, both he _and_ George had gotten detention. And not just any detention: detention with Professor Umbridge. While they had spent many a day in detention, there was nothing quite like that of Dolores Umbridge's detentions. It was their first with her, and while they would maintain their innocence until they day they died—they had had nothing to do with the copious amounts of puking pasties that just so happened to be found mixed into the box of chocolates that the students had given her to express their gratitude for her wonderful teaching skills—Professor Umbridge would tolerate none of their charm. And with the rumors flying about the mysterious new school nurse working with Madame Pomfrey in the hospital wing, suddenly the burning of the words carved into their hands was unbearable.

"George?"

"Yeah Fred?"

"I think its time to pay a visit to the hospital wing," Fred replied as they walked down the hall towards their dormitory.

George grinned. "I think you're right Fred," he replied, taking a bite out of an apple he had left over from lunch and winking at a group of 5th year girls as they flounced by, blushing and giggling under his gaze. "Market research, after all."

"Right you are, Georgie," Fred said opening the door for his brother. "Right you are."

* * *

Mercedes was up to her elbows in anti-vomiting potions and blemish-reducing ointments. Apparently attending classes at Hogwarts had become unbearable for the students, particularly Defense Against the Dark Arts. As the days passed, she had noticed more and more conspicuous absences within the few classes she was allowed to audit. And if the students weren't avoiding the classes, they were certainly avoiding detentions. It seemed like there was nothing anyone could do but eat, sleep, and study without breaking a rule nowadays. According to most, it was the Weasley twins that were responsible for the sudden outbreak of the most random and obscure maladies. She wasn't sure who these Weasley twins were, but if she ever came across them, she wasn't sure if she would yell or thank them. After all, these days there was little to be had in the form of entertainment. It was a dirty job, but someone had to take the fall for it.

Little did she know, those two someones had just entered the infirmary.

* * *

"Well, well, well," Madame Pomfrey said in passing to the twins as she flitted from one sallow faced student to another. "It's about time the two of you showed up. Keeping busy are we?"

"Honestly Madame Pomfrey," George said sitting down on the last available bed in the infirmary. "We have no idea..."

"What you are talking about," Fred finished with a grin, sitting next to his brother.

Madame Pomfrey smiled, shaking her head. "To what do I owe the pleasure boys?" With a flick of her wand, she sent two newly emptied buckets flying over their heads back to the students they had come from.

The twins looked at each other and back at Madame Pomfrey, holding up their wounded hands.

Madame Pomfrey's smile faded. "Barbaric," she muttered angrily, summoning bandages."Completely barbaric." She hurriedly bustled about treating George's hand and bandaging it up and was about to begin on Fred's when there was a crash at the far end of the infirmary.

"Madame Pomfrey! They're at it again!" a frantic voice called out. The elder nurse rolled her eyes.

"The spell, my dear," Madame Pomfrey called back over her shoulder. "Just use the spell like I taught you."

"I did," the voice called back. "It's just that now..."

"Now what?"

"Well, now the pustules have pustules and..." the voice paused. "They're exploding!"

"Oh for Heavens sake!" Madame Pomfrey said, finishing up George's bandaging. "George, you can go. And keep that bandage on for at least an hour or the elixir won't have time to seep into the wound." She rose from her seat passing more buckets over her head. "Oh and next time be a dear and try to be a little more discrete with the use of your merchandise."

"Oi!" Fred called out. "What about me?"

"My assistant will be with you momentarily," she replied. "Mercedes! We've got a detention wound that needs dressing!"

"Coming!" the voice called back.

"Unbelievable!" George muttered. "I get stuck with the old bat, and _you_ get an appointment with the new nurse!"

Fred grinned. "Rotten luck, mate," he replied. "See you back in the common room."

"Yeah, see ya." And with a slap on the back, George was off following the gaggle of girls that had just strolled past the door.

Fred looked over his shoulder at his twin and smiled, shaking his head. His brother always did have a way with the ladies. Then again, he did too. But that too was about to change.


End file.
